Cold Moon Dead

by J. M. Griffin

  “Did you know whose house it was?”

  “Not until today,” I answered.

  “Hmm, and whose house is it?”

  “Umm, Tony Jabroni’s?” I swallowed hard and waited for the ax to fall.

  An eyebrow hiked a notch as he glanced at me and paced. “Weren’t you asked to stay away from him?”

  “I was, but only on the Hill. Besides, I didn’t realize until I got there today that he was the owner. The ‘Queen of the Manor’ never said who she was and neither did Larry.”

  “You’re sure you didn’t know?”

  I could feel my eyes narrow to slits. My temper was on the rise. I’d already had a complete wreck of a day. Now to be questioned by someone I respected, to be accused of lying . . . even though I had sidestepped his questions a bit, that didn’t mean I was a full-on liar. Cripes.

  “I said I didn’t know until today.”

  Aaron stopped mid-stride and turned toward me, his eyes on my face. He nodded, apparently satisfied I’d told the truth.

  “What else happened today, other than you finished the job and left? You heard a shot? Did you see anyone or anything?”

  I took a deep breath, held it, and let it out slowly.

  “I heard the shot and ran from the house. That’s it.”

  “You’re sure?”

  “I’m still alive, aren’t I?”

  “Does that mean you think someone is dead?” His intense gaze never wavered.

  Don’t squirm, don’t even blink or you’ll show guilt. The thought scampered through my brain.

  “Maybe, I don’t know. I didn’t wait to find out.” It was at this juncture that my inner voice started its incessant nagging. Tell him all of it. You’ll feel better. It’s the right thing to do. Yeah, right! Shut the hell up. If only there was a shut off switch.

  “Why would you ask me these questions, Aaron?”

  “There’s a house across the street that we use as a site to keep an eye on Jabroni. The FBI likes to know who comes and goes from his house. I saw you there today, when you went in, ran out, and then went back in.”

  “Oh.”

  “Oh?” His brows hiked a notch. “That’s all you have to say?” His voice continued to rise, well on its way to yelling again, I guessed.

  “No, actually. I’d also like to say that if you saw that I was in need, especially when that Doberman yapped at my ass and someone chased me with a gun, you could have intervened, you know.” I shot up and out of the chair, into his space, close and personal, angry as hell, and yelling at the top of my lungs this time.

  “It had occurred to me, but I wasn’t in a position to do that.”

  “What position would keep you from saving my life, may I ask? Were you tied and gagged? Were you locked in a closet?” I planted my fist on my hip. When he didn’t answer, I snorted. “I guess I know where I stand now. It’s all right for me to get eaten by a vicious critter with fangs the size of bear teeth and to nearly get shot by some idiot who has no brains anyway, while you stand by watching, not caring enough to save my ass. Thanks a bunch. I only hope I can return the favor someday.” With that, I turned to leave.

  His hand grasped my arm and Aaron hauled me back toward him.

  “Not so fast,” he said. “I think there’s more you’re not telling me.”

  “You can think whatever the hell you want. It’s America, we can do that here. We’re done.” I wrestled my arm from his hand and strode from the apartment. When I reached my own, I entered it and slammed the door, hard. Christ, what a day.

  I sat at the counter, my head in my hands, and took several deep breaths to calm down. I wondered how I managed to get into these situations. The phone rang. I read the caller ID and realized Lanky Larry was on the line. With a heavy sigh, I picked up the phone. Things couldn’t get any worse, could they?

  “How are you, Larry?” I asked.

  He could barely talk. His throat, neck, and glands must hurt like hell. He mumbled a question about the job.

  “It’s done,” I said. “Someone got shot there today, though.”

  A squawk came over the phone and then more mumbled words.

  “Look Larry, the next time you need help just make sure to tell me if the homeowner is a mobster. I’ve had a terrible day, been chewed on by a Dobie, been chased by a gun-toting maniac, and now the FBI is crawling up my nose with a microscope. Thanks a lot, buddy.”

  “Sorry, Vin,” Larry croaked. “It won’t happen again.”

  “So you say, but my life is just one unlucky circumstance after another.” I wished him better health, said goodbye, and rang off.

  Chapter 9

  When the phone rang again, I had just sorted a load of laundry. Prepared for another round of arguing, I settled at the counter and stared at the caller ID. It was Marcus. Uncertain about answering his call, I let the machine pick up.

  “Vin, it’s Marcus. I finished up in Newport a bit early. Want to join me in Providence for dinner?” He paused. “Hello? Vin? Pick up the damned phone.”

  Could he sense that I hovered nearby? I answered his summons.

  “Where do you want to meet?” I asked.

  “Brady’s Bar and Grill is fine. You know where it is, don’t you?”

  “Sure, I’ll be down in about twenty minutes. Are you there already?”

  “Yeah, I’ll wait for you at the bar.”

  “See you shortly,” I said, and hung up.

  My nerves tightened over the thought that I might be in for some crap from him since I’d taken quite a lot from Aaron today. What the hell, I’d go anyway. Maybe we wouldn’t get into a hot and heavy argument in public.

  I drove down the highway within minutes of hanging up. There hadn’t been a sound from upstairs when I left the house. Thank God for small miracles. I couldn’t have argued with Aaron one more time.

  The car fit perfectly into the only spot left on the street. I locked the doors and strode toward the restaurant. It was a favorite hangout for all cops, city and state. The burgers were scrumptious, the fries done to perfection, and the beer was always cold.

  A smile flicked across Marcus’s features as I entered the room. His eyes met mine for a second and my heart raced. The blood in my veins hit an all time high temp when I saw the way he looked at me. For the first time today, I felt appreciated.

  “Hi,” I said, a bit breathless. “How long have you been here?”

  “Not long, just since I called you. Is everything okay? You look a bit frayed around the edges.” His eyes scanned my face as he motioned toward the booth.

  “It’s been a busy day. I’m glad to see you, that’s all. How did the presentation go in Newport?” I glanced around the restaurant where the noise level rose and ebbed like the tide. A couple of cops waved at me. I remembered them from class, so I waved back and smiled.

  Marcus turned to glance at them and then said, “It went well.” He stared at me for a minute. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  Here we go. It hit me that this could be a set up, that Aaron had been on the phone to him regarding my actions.

  “To be quite frank, I’ve had a crappy day, until now. It’s nice to be here with you.” I smiled and held his hand across the table.

  A waitress strolled over to the booth and asked if we were ready to order. I wanted a house burger with cheese fries and said so. Marcus ordered the same. She left and he turned back to me.

  “You don’t want to talk about the day?”

  “No, if that’s okay with you.”

  “Sure, talk about whatever you want.”

  Surprised, again I had to wonder if this might be a trap or if Marcus was genuine in his delight that I was here with him. He and Aaron had set me up in the past when they wanted information, so the idea wasn’t a foreign one.

  As a matter of fact, the summer before, both men had suddenly appeared in my life, both for their own reasons, which turned out to be the same investigation. Aaron had moved into the apartment, become comfortable,
and hadn’t moved out when his case was solved. Marcus, on the other hand, had become my paramour. Though he’d investigated the same case on a different level than the FBI, he hadn’t left me high and dry when the case was finished either. No matter how I looked at it, these two men were fixtures in my life. It was nice to have them around when life got crazy, but then again my life always seemed crazy to some extent.

  “Have you heard about your car yet?” Marcus asked.

  “Freedom called earlier. I did a sketch of the woman that she passed around, and it seems this woman has pulled a couple of similar robberies in the past month or so. Imagine the nerve of the old bag?” I leaned back and sipped the beer the waitress had left in front of me. “Free said the cops would keep an eye out for her, but I thought I saw her yesterday. When I went back to the spot, she had disappeared.”

  Marcus lifted his cup of coffee and glanced at me over the rim.

  “What would you have done if she’d still been there?”

  “Called the cops, I guess. I’m not about to take on a gun-toting harridan like her. The woman is a nut, a very dangerous nut.” I snorted out that last part.

  He nodded in agreement as I spoke. For once I had said the right thing. My day was looking up. The inner voice started to nag as I sipped the beer. Tell him what happened today. He’ll understand and you’ll feel better for getting it off your mind. Where was that ‘shut up’ button when I needed it most?

  “So, do the PPD have a handle on her yet?”

  “I’m not sure, other than that the people she robbed have agreed to testify against her when they do catch her. I just want my car back. Since it doesn’t look like that’s going to happen anytime soon, and I only have Lola’s for a few more days. I reported the loss to my insurance company.”

  The burgers and fries arrived. The fragrant aroma wafted to my nose. I laced the fries with vinegar and ketchup. Rhode Islanders love vinegar on their fries, it’s the only way to have them.

  We dug in with fervor. Neither of us spoke for a while as we chowed down the heavenly meal. There is no way I could ever be a vegan. Carnivorous habits are ingrained into every fiber of my being. I enjoy a grilled steak, barbecued chicken, and yes, even pork chops. I draw the line at veal, though. I never liked it, even as a child. It must be an acquired taste.

  When we’d eaten about half of the food on our plates, we both leaned back in the booth. I grinned at the way we had done so simultaneously. Marcus smirked and sipped the fresh coffee he’d been served.

  “You realize you may never see that car again, don’t you?” he asked in a soft voice.

  “Yeah, I realize it. I just don’t want to have to go buy another one. The salesman will begin to wonder about me.”

  “Begin?” He raised a brow and laughed.

  I laughed too. The car salesman already thought I was weird, but he’d made a commission off me twice now, so he should be glad when I strolled onto the car lot.

  My inner voice still nagged. I tossed my hair back off my shoulders in an effort to try and quiet the words. It was useless. I sat back and sighed.

  “Something wrong, Vin?”

  “No.”

  “How about coming back to my place for the night?” His eyebrows waggled. “I’ve missed you.”

  I chuckled. “Sounds like a plan to me. A good plan, even.”

  We finished every scrap of food and left Brady’s to head to Cranston. I followed the gray police cruiser as it rolled along the city streets. I was waiting to turn at the red light near the Cranston Street Armory when my Altima rolled by at a purposeful clip. I knew it was mine because it had the university parking pass in the front window on the driver’s side of the car.

  I swung the MINI Cooper around in traffic and sped after it. My phone rang. I answered Marcus’s question with clipped words.

  “My car just went by. Call the PPD and let them know I have it in sight, will you?”

  “Vinnie, come back here. Don’t be foolish.” Marcus swore and then ended the call.

  I caught sight of his cruiser in my rearview mirror. The light bar on the roof flashed as he passed me and cut me off. I slammed the brake pedal and skidded to a halt inches away from his car door.

  In a snit, I was out of the car, yelling at the top of my lungs at Marcus Richmond, State Trooper. Traffic stopped in both directions as we stood face to face. My arms flailed as I pointed in the direction the Altima had gone.

  “What the hell are you doing, Marcus? That’s my car.”

  “You can’t become involved in a car chase, especially with Lola’s car. Think about that for a minute. You’ll endanger your life, her car, and other people, as well.”

  My temper was on a roll. He was right, I knew it somewhere in my psyche, but I wanted my car back, dammit.

  “You are such a cop sometimes, Marcus. Honest to God, I hate it when you are so sensible.” I ranted like a fool. He was right, we both knew it. He’d also been right to stop me from creating another crazy episode in my life—one I didn’t need.

  A Providence Police patrol car slid to a halt behind the MINI Cooper. I turned to watch Greg Posely step from his vehicle. His six-foot-four frame was a powerful image even to a woman as tall as I am. His reckless Superman reputation preceded him wherever he went. Greg had an incredible record of arrests that added to his intimidating image. He’d taken classes at the university in my early years as a criminal justice instructor. A heckler, he’d made the class an interesting one, especially for the newbies.

  “Things under control here?” Greg asked Marcus before he glanced at me. He nodded in my direction and then looked at Marcus again.

  “Vinnie just saw her stolen vehicle headed toward Olneyville. I was in the process of prohibiting her from entering a car chase,” Marcus said with a dip of his hat-covered-head in my direction.

  “Vin, you should know better than that.” The big lug smirked as he rested his hands on the heavy utility belt slung around his waist.

  “Well, it’s too late now, isn’t it?” I retorted, a mite testily.

  Both men nodded. I could see the smirk hover around Posely’s lips. This would be all over the station by tomorrow. When classes commenced, I would have to put up with harassment from the police officer students. Dang, it’s annoying when that happens.

  The two men talked for a bit, agreed on a few things, and motioned traffic to move on. Posely recommended that I get back into the Cooper and be on my way to wherever I had been headed in the first place. He assured me that he would keep watch for the car. I believed he would, too.

  In despair, I nodded and climbed back into the car. Traffic had dispersed by the time we moved away from the area. So had my temper. I continued to follow Marcus to Cranston and ended up parked in the driveway of his house before I realized it.

  Once inside we sat in front of the fireplace and listened to the news. Nothing remarkable had happened in the state and my name was not mentioned when the death of Jabroni’s doctor was announced.

  Marcus poured me a glass of wine and opened a beer for himself. I snuggled into the crook of his arm and waited to see if he would lecture me over causing the traffic havoc. When he didn’t, I glanced up and noticed his head rested back against the sofa in total relaxation.

  “You aren’t angry, are you?” I asked.

  “Not at all. You were just being you. There’s no other way to explain it. I think that’s part of the attraction I have for you, Vinnie. You do the unexpected. Sometimes it leaves a little to be desired, but you do things with such passion that I can never stay angry.” He kissed my forehead, squeezed my shoulder, and leaned his head back again.

  My heart lifted and pounded at the same time. This was more than I had expected. Relief flooded me and I smiled. No matter how zany I acted, Marcus accepted me. Life can be good—but he still didn’t know the truth about today . . . about me, Jabroni, and Louie-the-Lug.

  I finished the wine, he drank the beer, and things grew hot and heavy. We moved from the sofa
to the upstairs bedroom with little effort. Clothes dropped haphazardly across the floor as we neared the bed. I couldn’t have cared less that my cashmere sweater lay draped on top of his uniform. He didn’t appear concerned over his gear either. The trouser belt hit the floor with a thunk, as did his uniform pants. The boots had left his feet the minute he’d arrived home.

  It wasn’t until later, much later, that we lay entwined under the comforter, satisfied. I heaved a sated sigh and felt, more than saw, Marcus smile.

  “Everything all right over there?” he asked with a chuckle.

  “Couldn’t be better,” I answered with a smile of my own.

  “Glad to hear it.” He pulled me closer to his naked chest, and I snuggled in tightly to him. Mmm, this was nice.

  “I had such a lousy day, this sure made up for it.” I breathed against his skin.

  “Why was it so lousy?” he asked.

  “Don’t get angry or anything, because I had no idea where I was working when I agreed to help Larry.”

  Marcus stiffened a tad, but then relaxed again. “What are you talking about?”

  I sat up in bed, pulled the blanket up and tucked it around my body. Street lights cast the room in muted shadows. I stared at him in the semi-darkness, unable to see his face clearly, but close enough. He turned to face me.

  I explained the job, and how I’d been in the dark about who owned the house. Marcus waited in silence until I finished the story that led right up to when I left the development. He sighed and then pulled himself up in bed, his back slouching against the headboard.

  “You weren’t aware the house was Jabroni’s?” he asked in a resigned voice.

  “No clue whatsoever. If I’d known, I would never have agreed to work there, honest.” I believed the words as I uttered them, mostly because they were true.

  “Why did you tell me this now?” he asked while he caressed my cool skin.

  Goose bumps covered my arms, and I smiled a bit. I admitted that I wasn’t sure why I had confessed. It had just seemed like a good idea at the time.

  He smiled and leaned toward me, kissing my shoulder. From there, conversation ceased, as did any coherent thoughts.